


Spoils of War

by Twisted_Mind



Series: 12 Days of Christmas [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Consent Issues, Cruelty, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, M/M, Male Slash, POV First Person, Power Dynamics, Slavery, Snape Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:45:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/pseuds/Twisted_Mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the 10th day of Christmas, I give you . . . enslaved Malfoys</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoils of War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GhostxWriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostxWriter/gifts).



> Originally posted Dec 23rd 2012 at HP Fandom as a gift. Edited upon re-posting here. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own them! And I'm pretty sure that if I did, and I made them do this, they would hunt me down and kill me slowly.

I reach down and pet the soft hair of the bare-chested man kneeling beside me precisely because I know that it discomfits him far more than kneeling does. He twitches, like he wants to move away from my hand, but I pay it no mind. If and when he does move away, then and only then will I acknowledge the behaviour—by putting his head in my lap and continuing to pet him. He seems to realize this, as he lets out a long-suffering sigh and allows my fingers to card through his pale hair, though he truly despises such treatment.   
  
_It figures that Lucius Malfoy would most hate being spoiled._ A lazy grin spreads across my face at the thought, and I turn my head as the Floo flares to life, spilling Severus and Draco into the private room of my nightclub. _It also figures that Draco would most hate the utter lack of pampering and hard work Severus demands,_ I muse as Severus tugs on the leash attached to the other Malfoy’s collar.   
  
It is only by my insistence that Severus bothers with this. It was bleeding impossible to get him to agree to it until he’d seen the effect of such visits. They make the son despondent and the father defiant—just as Severus and I like. The irascible man joins me in the other armchair while the father and son whisper urgently.   
  
When the war was over and the surviving Death Eaters rounded up, the Ministry decided that none of them could be allowed to go free. It was further decided that the worst offenders should be given to the war heroes who wanted them—a “to the victor goes the spoils” sort of deal. Unsurprisingly, I was given first choice. When I saw Lucius in the line-up, I’d signed for him before thinking twice. Severus took Draco, and the Weasley twins had the Carrows. They used them predominantly for product testing, I believe.   
  
Of course, the former followers of Voldemort weren’t released without careful forethought—each wore a collar that not only marked them as a slave, but also caged their magic. They were little more than Muggles, and completely at the mercy of their masters.  
  
It was pure, delicious irony that my rather abundant mercy was, in practise, sheer torture for my pet. If I had been cruel or condescending, if I had abused him or acted superior, Lucius could have handled it. He would have simply retreated behind his pride and accepted it as the price paid for following his Dark Lord. The fact that I did not—that I made him submit to kisses and cuddles, that I petted and stroked him until he was whimpering with desire and begging me to fuck him—was, perversely, the worst possible thing I could have done to him. My kindness hurt him in ways that cruelty could not.   
  
The paradox was enough to satisfy both my urge for revenge, as well as my own unwavering need to hold to my principles. In short, it made me a very happy man.   
  
I turned to look at Severus. In the same way that my gentleness was unbearable to the elder Malfoy, Severus’s precise and demanding nature was nearly intolerable to the younger. Severus needed a companion, and truthfully this was a good solution for him. Draco was intelligent and capable, but his attitude gave Severus the excuse he required to vent his temper on the blond.   
  
When I turned my attention back to the Malfoys in the corner, I saw that Lucius was holding his son. Glancing at Severus from the corner of my eye, I wondered how he’d respond—he tended not to react well when someone touched what was his. And Draco was undeniably his.   
  
His reaction surprised me. “Kiss him,” he ordered; his voice dark and a little gritty. Draco’s eyes widened and Lucius’s grew hard as they realized what he meant. Draco cupped his father’s face with one hand and softly kissed his cheek before looking furtively towards his master. Severus raised an eyebrow and simply said, “Try again.” His voice is only more menacing when it’s that soft.   
  
Lucius turned to me, as if questioning my opinion on the matter—as well he should. For all that Draco was Severus’s to command, Lucius was mine. I will admit to a certain prurient curiosity. I wanted to see what the two Malfoys would look like while locked in such a passionate and forbidden embrace. I nodded once, and my pet’s face filled with resignation.   
  
Lucius cradled his son’s face tenderly, before bringing his lips to meet Draco’s own. At first, their mouths barely moved, but then Draco’s arms slid around the slightly broader shoulders, and the kiss became a bit more lively. Severus gave a pleased hum when tongues began to sneak into the kiss, and I had to agree—the two of them were so perversely delicious to watch. When Lucius’s hands began skimming over Draco’s naked torso, however, it was time to put a stop to the show.   
  
“Draco!” Severus barked. The kiss broke suddenly, the younger Malfoy appearing a little dazed. He shook his head as if to clear it, before crawling over to his master. I beckoned my own pet over, and he crawled to me rather reluctantly.   
  
I quirk a brow at him, questioning his attitude. He flushes, ever-so-slightly; just enough for me to know that he’s been adequately chastened. I spread my legs, and he moves between them, refusing to look me in the eye. My hand under his chin forces his face up, and I capture his lips. My hand slides around so that I’m gripping the back of his neck, and my other hand slides down to rub teasingly over the front of his trousers—which contain a very telling bulge.  
  
I grin as he whimpers, and continue to stroke feather-light touches over his cock. His chest is heaving, trying to catch his breath as he squirms and tries not to moan into our kiss. He loses that battle fairly quickly, and when he begins to moan unrestrainedly I use firmer strokes as a reward. It isn’t long before he’s canting his hips, pushing himself into my hand. I bite at his lower lip as I squeeze _just so_ , and then he’s panting and moaning as he comes.   
  
Sitting up again, I turn to look at Severus and Draco—the Potions Master’s long fingers are tangled in Draco’s fair hair as he fucks the younger man’s mouth. I gasp appreciatively; for all that I’d feel guilty in choking Lucius that way, it is unbelievably erotic to watch Severus do it. I quickly free myself from the confines of my denims, and guide Lucius’s head down.   
  
I take to petting his hair again as he traces his tongue over the ridges of my cock. Lucius makes an aggravated sound, and I know that he’d rather I fisted the blond strands roughly, force him down on me until he gags. Anything but this, this gentle petting of his head as he draws my orgasm from me at his own pace, using his tongue and talented fingers. Because this is too close to intimacy, to what one might share with a lover. And Lucius would much rather be my slave than my lover.   
  
_Too bad for him that it’s not his choice,_ I think as I fill his mouth with my come.   
  
  
  



End file.
